St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1887-05-19
AN INDIAN LEGEND.
@. Leon Meredith in Detroit Free Press.

! If you have ever spent a winters
night lost and alone in the forest wilds
you can appreciate my feelings of de
spair when | found myself weary, be
wildered and storm bound in the great
woods of Canada.
What a night! The wind cut as il
| filled with millions of fine needles, fly
ing points foremost, and now began
crusting so as to make walking more
labOriOus.
| cast about me for some spot which
would afford shelter from the bowling
tempest, but only the sturdy trees,
studded in the great, white blanket,
could be seen, was weary and chilled
to the bone, but dared not stop. Hour
after hour slowly passed, and no halt
had been made. My watch told me
that half of the night had passed, but
could | survive the other half? That
was the question.
At the very moment when | was dis
cussing the possibility of enduring the
cold until dawn, a strange object loom
ed up before me. 1t was a wigwam
made of poles, and closely covered
with bark.
A single wigwam, buried, it proved,
in the heart of the great Canada woods.
A cloud of smoke almost as white as
the snow issued from the top. Never
was mortal more gratified. Going
close to the fur-clOsed doorway | cried
out:
"HellO there"
There was no response and | cried
out again. The skin moved, and the
muzzle of a rifle appeared.
ga white hunter lost in the woods, {"
| said, getting out of the range of the
gun.
"White hunter come in"
A moment later l was out of the bit
ing frost, out of danger.
l found the only occupant of tho for
est lodge to be a very aged Indian.
His face was wrinkled, his form bent,
and the light covering of hair upon
his head as white as the crystals that
danced in the winter wind outside.
The old man spoke English very
clearly, and seemed glad had come.
He revived the fire, wrapped blan-
ket of wolf skin about my shoulders,
and at once set about preparing some
warm drink and food. After thawing
out and partaking of the red hermit's
food, we sat crOss-legged like Turks
and smoked our pipes. The Indian
was inclined to be reticent at first, but
when he learned that l was from the
Upper Mississippi he became inter-
ested.
"YOu have been up and down the
great river 7" he Intercepted.
"Many times" | returned.
"You have seen the great bluff on
the sunrise side of Lake Pepin, then ~
"Maiden rock"
eyes,
"Time and again. 1t is famous
rock. Every boat that passes up or
down the river contains people who
gaze upon the great bluff and think of |
WinOna, who killed herself for love by |
leaping from its crest to the stony base |
below. All the pilots tell the story
over and over again of the tragic end |
of the pretty Indian girl"
The old man shook his head slowly. |
al have heard the story" he said,
"but none of the pale |
faces have it right"
"HOw do you know 7"
81 was there at the time, and do
know
"Then is the tradition not true Z"
"The brave girl did leap from the
high rock"
"YOu must be very old.n
"Better than 100 summers" he an
swered, rubbing his thin hand across
his deeply furrOwed brow. al was
young brave then, only boy, but 1
nave forgotten nOthing.n
"YOu say the whites do not have
he story of the girl correctly preserv-
ID, SO will you tell it to me, that / i